


Going Out With A Bang

by HedwigsTalons



Category: Thunderbirds
Genre: Christmas, Fire, lost at sea
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-01
Updated: 2020-02-01
Packaged: 2021-02-28 00:47:46
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,554
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22514971
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HedwigsTalons/pseuds/HedwigsTalons
Summary: Some festive fun and nonsense with a rescue thrown in for good measure.
Kudos: 13





	Going Out With A Bang

Christmas has arrived and for once it looked like the whole family would be able to share in the festive meal. The world had been quiet and since December 22nd and the Tracys hoped it would grant them peace for a few days more so they could properly enjoy the holiday season.

The final arrival had been John who has returned via the space elevator late on Christmas eve. He had been reluctant to desert his post as space monitor but Eos has practically threatened to pump out all the oxygen if he hadn’t stepped through through the air lock _right now_. He suspected she had been conspiring with Alan; those two had been mightily absorbed on the youngest Tracy's last visit up to Thunderbird Five. Now, sat with a coffee in hand, he was glad to be home even if home came with a heavy dose of gravity.

Christmas morning had been a whirlwind of activity. Alan had resembled an over-excited puppy as he dashed from one sibling to the next to wish everyone a merry Christmas. Gordon had managed to find the most hideous shirt bedecked with neon candy canes that Virgil had proclaimed to to an offense to the senses. Scott had adopted his usual role of commander and made sure everyone had eaten a proper breakfast (“No Alan, marshmallows are not breakfast”). John had tripped over the step in the lounge at least twice already. It was a typical island Christmas.

As lunch time approached the assembled group of five brothers, Kayo and Brains were glad that Scott had insisted on breakfast. Grandma has declared that there would be no barbecue this year and she would be treating them all to a traditional turkey dinner. As the allotted time approached the prospect of consuming a hot and heavy meal in tropical heat was not appealing, especially as Grandma had insisted on doing most of the cooking herself. More than one island resident was caught sneaking off to the store rooms to stock up on pre-lunch snacks until Grandma had locked the stores and declaring that she would not let them spoil their lunch. She ignored the pained glances that passed between brothers that said clearer than words that lunch would definitely be spoiled if Grandma Tracy was catering.

The smell of scorched meat and the sound or curses as a pan of vegetables boiled dry signalled that it was time to set the table. International Rescue worked as a smooth machine and laying the out the dishes for lunch was no exception. Figures interwove as plates were passed along and settings made up. As the last dish was put in place the team stepped back to admire their handiwork. Even if the food in the dishes looked a little suspect the table itself was a picture of festive cheer.

“Crackers!” exclaimed Alan, the disappointment in his voice evident for all to hear. “Didn’t we order any for this year? It’s not a proper Christmas lunch without crackers”.

“I’m sure we did. I think I spotted a box in storeroom 3. You all sit down and I’ll go and fetch them.” Gordon sped out of the dining room and down the hallway that led to the stores. He soon veered off and headed towards his own room where the box of crackers had been liberated to a few days earlier. The selection of bright foil cylinders appeared identical but he knew otherwise.

As Gordon returned to the dining room, box in hand, he was pleased to see that everyone was seated already. He walked around the perimeter of the table, carefully laying a cracker across each place setting. Conversation was in full flow and only Scott noticed that the crackers were not pulled out of the box in an entirely random order. He wondered what Gordon had planned but as he was evidently not the intended recipient of whatever prank had been prepared to was happy to sit back and watch the drama unfold. It looked like Virgil would not be so lucky.

Gordon finished his round of the table and sat back in his own seat. “Ok, crackers in a circle, right? Everyone hold out you cracker to the person on your left.”

Virgil and Alan then, thought Scott as everyone complied with the seemingly innocent instruction. Soon a chain of crackers was set up around the table.

“Five...Four...Three...Two…One...”

The klaxon sounded and the crackers were dropped back on to plates as everyone rushed through to the comms room. The light hearted atmosphere had gone and been replaced the usual rush of adrenalin that preceded a rescue.

“Go ahead, Eos” instructed Scott. The AI was pretty good at filtering out the necessary rescues from the surrounding noise of global radio chatter. She had also been instructed to reroute calls to the local emergency services or GDF for the duration of Christmas day so the fact she was intruding on their family time meant the situation must be serious.

“I have received a distress call from an oil rig. It has been damaged in a storm and the crew need to evacuate. The weather conditions preclude evacuation by helicopter. Some of the crew opted to leave by life raft but the transponder has failed and all contact with the life raft has been lost.”

“Virgil, Alan and Gordon; you all get going in Thunderbird Two. We’ll need Thunderbird Four to help with the missing life raft. I’ll take Thunderbird One and meet you there. John, you’re on comms; get full details and co-ordinates and brief us once we are airborne.”

The brothers dispersed to their respective concealed chutes that let to the Thunderbirds. John was grateful to claim his seat by the comms table; the sudden rush from the dining room had left him a little dizzy and highlighted that he was not yet acclimatised to Earth enough to take a more active role in the rescue.

Grandma, Kayo and Brains retreated to the dining room. The dishes were returned to the kitchen and would be warmed through once the boys returned, whenever that might be.

xoxoxox

As the two Thunderbirds approached the rig the weather conditions worsened. They had taken off into bright tropical skies over an azure sea. Now, several time zones and climatic regions away they were surrounded by darkness. Fierce winds buffeted their craft and the pilots could feel the strain through their control yokes. Rain lashed the cockpit screens and visibility was almost zero; flying was by instruments and instincts. The seas below churned and roiled beneath them, not that those aboard the mighty ‘birds could see that.

John had made contact with those still trapped on the rig and was now in possession of the full details and severity of the situation. Eight personnel required evacuation from the rig and a further four were lost somewhere on the unforgiving ocean. Part of the platform had failed structurally and the was at risk of collapsing into the sea. A small mercy was that the crew has managed to cap off the bore hole so any potential environmental disaster had already been averted. The drilling company would be able to make the structure safe once the storm had passed but until that happened the crew was in danger. With the first four to evacuate now lost without a trace the remaining crew were unwilling to follow their colleagues into the remaining rafts and preferred to take their changes on the unstable rig.

Eos had also been busy. Having ascertained the exact time the life raft had been launched and its last known location before the transponder had failed she had run simulations using the weather and ocean current data from the area. Her high-tech models allowed her to narrow down the search area and she was able to provide Scott with a more defined zone in which the life raft should be found.

“Approaching raft rescue zone now” Scott announced as he reached the area. “I’ll see if I can locate the life raft by scanning for life signs. Deploy Thunderbird Four then continue to rig; you should be able to evacuate those remaining using the rescue cage.”

“FAB” acknowledge Virgil. 

Scott activated his scanner and started a sweep of the area. It looked like a futile task, trying to locate a small orange raft in miles of dark ocean, but he trusted in Eos’s calculations. He needed to, there wasn’t a lot else to go out out here. He knew that Gordon would also be scanning the area from Thunderbird Four and it was hopefully only a matter of time before one or other of the brothers found the missing crew.

Gordon was at least more comfortable that Scott. Underneath the surface of the ocean he was protected from the worst of the storm conditions. Other that the occasional deep swell that would shift his ‘bird slightly off course he could almost forget the tempest playing out on the surface. He was used to working in limited visibility so the darkness was no hindrance to him. He maintained radio contact with his sky-bound sibling as they scanned the rescue area, starting in opposite quadrants to maximise efficiency. 

The brothers swept the area using a mix of radar and life signs scanner until “Woohoo, I win!”

“Gordo, this is not competition. Do I take it you have located the raft?”

“Sure have. Sending through the co-ordinates now. So how do you want to go about extraction?”

“The conditions are too rough for you to tow the raft. I’ll snare it with a grapple and return it to the main rig. From there we can get them aboard Thunderbird Two. It’s not going to be comfortable for them though. I want you to try and attach a communicator to the raft so I can let them know what is happening.”

“FAB”.

Attaching a communicator to the side of the raft would require a trip to the surface. A prospect Gordon wasn’t looking forward to as the swell still hadn’t abated. It would also require some careful piloting.

Gordon surfaced the submarine. His powerful lamps soon illuminated the orange box that was being tossed about on the waves. He hoped those inside had strong stomachs because it was one hell of a bumpy ride they were being subjected to. He monitored the rise and fall of both the life raft and his own craft until he was familiar with the pattern the waves were moving to. Then, at the optimal moment he fired a small cannon. A disc flew through the air and adhered itself to the side of the life raft with a dull thunk. 

To those inside the raft the sound of something solid hitting the side was disconcerting. Their fear soon turned to elation as Gordon’s friendly voice was heard inside their craft.

“This is International Rescue. Please report your status. Is anybody hurt?”

“International Rescue? Thank goodness, we thought we were lost for sure.” The relief in the speaker’s voice was palpable. “We are all a bit bumped about. One head injury but no signs of concussion.”

The rescue plan was soon relayed to the crew in the raft and while they were not enamoured with the idea of being suspended below Thunderbird One they were pleased that their ordeal would soon be over. 

Back at the rig Virgil and Alan were concentrating on rescuing the eight remaining crew. Virgil was holding a hover over the rig while Alan was on winch and rescue cage duty. The rig was creaking and groaning in the storm force winds and the pair knew they needed to work quickly.

Alan lowered himself and the rescue cage to the deck of the rig. The surface of the platform was exposed to the elements and the most dangerous aspect of the rescue would be stopping himself and the crew being blow off the side of the platform. For now the crew were safely holed up in one of the cabins on the surface of the rig. 

Alan ensured his gravity boots were engaged and that he was attached to a safety line before he risked exiting the rescue cage. The short walk to the cabin felt like a marathon as he braced himself against the vicious gusts. The checker plate surface was slick with the rain that was still falling in torrents and even the gravity boots were struggling to get a purchase. It was with some relief that Alan reached the cabin and entered. His safely line prevented the door from being closed and he had to shout to be heard above the elements.

“So, who needs a lift home?” he grinned. He easy manner and smile instantly calming those waiting for rescue. 

He was pleased to see that the crew were already kitted out in full safety gear including harnesses and helmets. This would make his job a whole lot easier and save him having to escort everyone to the rescue cage individually. He connected the safety line to an anchor point within the cabin and instructed everyone to clip in. The line acted as a guide rail and would allow everyone to traverse the deck safely between the fixed point of the cabin and the rescue cage.

Alan issued instructions on how to harness in to the safety cage. Then, one following close behind the other, the line of eight crew fought their way across the deck, gripping the safety line for support. Only once the last crew member had reached the cage did Alan release the anchor point in the cabin and begin his own return journey. Form there it was just a matter of activating the winch and they were being safely swallowed up into the belly of Thunderbird Two.

There was no chance to rest though. The evacuation from the rig had been the easy part; the real challenge would be to secure the life raft which was even now on its way to rendezvous with them, suspended from the base of Thunderbird One. Once Alan had settled the crew from the rig into the passenger bay he returned to the winch cables.

The plan was to attempt an air to air transfer. It would not be safe to transport the life raft all the way to land underneath Thunderbird One, nor was the idea of individually winching out the four trapped inside. The solution, although far from ideal, was for Alan to to attach Two’s grapple to the life raft. Scott would then disengage One’s grapple leaving Two free to winch the life raft inside the cargo area where there was plenty of space. The manoeuvrer would be challenging and not without risks.

Alan looked out of the open hatch in Thunderbird Two, grim determination on his face. Thunderbirds One and Two were being hovered expertly side by side. His two oldest brothers seemed to act in perfect unison, each acting to correct against the still-buffeting winds at the same time. The life raft was swinging wildly about on the end of its tether and Alan felt sorry for the four poor souls he knew were contained within. He took aim and fired the suction grapple but the erratic movement of the raft in the gusting winds meant his first shot missed. He recalled the grapple and tried again. The raft swung in and out of his line of sight and the whole exercise felt faintly reminiscent of a fairground game but one that had four lives as the prize rather than a misshapen stuffed toy. With a fair dose of luck on his side the second shot flew true and the suction grapple adhered firmly to the room of the raft. Scott quickly disengaged the line from Thunderbird One. Alan activated the winch mechanism and drew the raft inside the safety of the giant transporter ‘plane.

With the rig workers all safely accounted for the final task was to collect Gordon and Thunderbird Four. International Rescue would then be able to drop their grateful passengers off at the nearest airfield and head for home. 

It might not have been the Christmas they hoped for but there was something about a successful rescue that lifts the mood. The International Rescue secure frequencies were soon filled with cheerful chatter between Thunderbirds One and Two and Tracy Island. Gordon attempted to lead everyone in song but soon stopped when Virgil threatened to dump him back in the ocean. The only disappointment was that Christmas day was nearly over by the time everyone had safely returned to base.

xoxoxox

It was a weary crew of operatives that gathered in the lounge again once post-flight checks had been completed and dirty uniforms discarded.

“I’m starving” groaned Scott as he kicked back and relaxed in an easy chair. “I thought Christmas was meant to be a time of eating to excess but instead I feel like we missed about four meals.”

“You’re always hungry” Virgil retorted, stretching out and taking up about three sofa spaces “but I know what you mean. I could almost contemplate Grandma’s Christmas lunch after all that. I’d go and fetch some food but I’m too comfortable now. Hey, Johnny, you fancy digging out some snacks?”

John was interrupted in making an indignant response about Virgil being perfectly capable of fetching his own snacks when their Grandmother appeared. “Welcome back, boys. I know you must be tired out after today but you need to look after yourselves. I’m not having anyone heading off to bed without a proper meal. We saved lunch so I want everyone back in the dining room in five minutes. I just need to set the table again.”

There was a collective set of groans that had more to do with facing their Grandma’s cooking in reheated form than the prospect of shifting off the sofa. However, everyone knew that if they didn’t face the meal tonight she would only wheel it out again tomorrow and Grandma’s cooking was one thing that did not improve with age.

Everyone shuffled through to the dining room to help finish setting up the meal again. Gordon gulped as he realised that _everything_ had been reset. The crackers had been placed back in their box when the first iteration of lunch had been cleared away and Kayo was now in the process of laying a tube across each plate. He scanned the table but he had done his job too well, the crackers looked identical.

The sinking feeling deepened as Scott’s hand landed on his shoulder from behind. A low voice growled in his ear. “Well this should be interesting. Cracker roulette. I know you didn’t get those out the store room earlier, Grandma had them all locked down tighter than Fort Knox. The question is, little bro, are you feeling lucky?”

It is one thing to play a prank when the victim is carefully selected. It is quite another to have that control taken away. Pranks come with retribution and Gordon knows that each person around the table would have their revenge somehow, the unknown is the price he would be expected to pay.

Everyone returned to the seats they had vacated all those hours previously. The crackers raised to signal the start of the meal.

“Five...Four...Three...Two...One...Merry Christmas”

Except the ‘Merry Christmas’ was partially drowned out by a shout as one cracker erupted as a highly effective glitter bomb. Sparkles of red and green coated those that had been holding either end. 

Uh oh.

Gordon’s chair crashed to the floor, knocked over in his haste to exit the room. He took off at a sprint but his attempt at escape was futile. The way no escaping the wrath of a now twinkling Kayo and Scott.

“Gordon Tracy, I’m going to be finding this stuff for weeks! Just you wait until I get my hands on you.”

Pranking Kayo comes at a cost. Usually a very painful cost. She caught up with him half way to the lounge and expertly tackled him to the floor. Scott arrived moments later. Between the pair of them Gordon was soon trussed up in tinsel. Scott threw him unceremoniously over his shoulder and carried the prankster back to his chair in the dining room, ensuring his younger brother got smeared on copious amounts of the glitter in the process.

There were a few sniggers as Gordon was fastened to his chair. He knew there was no point in trying to escape his tinsel bonds, Kayo had made sure the knots were firmly tied and out of reach.

Gordon tried appealed to their better nature. “Aw come on. It’s Christmas after all. You can’t let me starve while you all eat. That’s just torture.”

“Oh you’ll be eating, Gordo.” Kayo’s voice had taken on a dangerous edge. She freed his hands while making sure he was still unable to escape the chair. “You’ll sit there until you have cleared your plate like a good boy.”

Scott started heaping large portions onto Gordon’s plate, carefully selecting the most suspect looking parts of their Grandma’s cooking.

“There might even be... _dessert_.”

Gordon gulped and picked up his fork. The price for his prank was high and it was time to start paying.


End file.
